In Ruins
by ncis-lady
Summary: A series of drabbles based losely on Green Day's "21 Guns", this short story shows how George tries to deal with losing his brother. Grief comes in different stages, and George learns it the hard way.
1. The first Week

* * *

Alright, this is something I've had in mind ever since I heard Green Day's "21 Guns" for the first time. And it is also a kind of experiment for me, I've never done a drabble before, let alone many drabbles ;) So I'd like to know what you think, it's pretty different from what I've done before but it is fun writing it.

As you will notice, I won't use every line of the song, I decided to leave out the chorus cause it didn't really fit in my opinion.

I don't own the characters of Harry Potter and I definitely don't onw the lyrics of the song I used. I just play with it, no copyright infringement intended.

Reviews are very much appreciated! x

* * *

**I. The first Week

* * *

**

_Do you know what's worth fighting for_

He knows he should get up. He should grab his wand and kill as many of the bastards as possible. But he can't let go.

George stares down at his brother's face, so still, so pale, and all his senses tell him that he mustn't leave him again. He's done it once, and it has come for a terrible price. He can't leave just now.

He hears a weak sob, and he finally looks up. There are Ginny and Ron, there are his mum and dad. There's his family.

The ones he will always fight for.

All he got left.

* * *

_When it's not worth dying for_

There is Harry standing in the corner. Why isn't he with Ginny? He looks lost, George thinks.

Well, he is, isn't he?

"This is how it is - this is why you're not in the Order – you don't understand - there are things worth dying for!"

Are there? He isn't so sure now.

He remembers that he used to believe in it. The greater good. Just that his thoughts never used to go that far as to think about the pain it would bring.

For a brief moment George wonders how long it took Harry to stop crying over Sirius.

* * *

_Does it take your breath away_

_And you feel yourself suffocating?_

The room is too small, too crowded. George feels like there are people _everywhere_. He would like to scream at all of them to leave, to leave him alone, let him breathe.

But not a single word leaves his mouth, and they stay. He feels their eyes on him, although he doesn't look up. He hears them whispering, despite his efforts to shut out any noises that reach his ear.

And he doesn't know how he can possibly get through this in one piece. This is too big.

He really wishes he could just run away, and never come back.

* * *

_Does the pain weigh out the pride_

George doesn't need to hear what the man in the black suit is saying. He's pretty sure he knows what he's telling them.

Praising Fred's courage, his will to fight for a better world.

Of course the man is right.

But in this moment, George doesn't want to hear any of this. It makes it sound as if death was a price worth to pay for the freedom of the world. Maybe Fred would even agree.

But right now George thinks there are things that aren't worth anything, like a hole in the head and a brother in a coffin.

* * *

_And you look for a place to hide?_

It's getting dark in Ottery St. Cathpole. The sun is setting slowly, and George feels the cold creep upon him as he leans against the old apple tree.

It's quiet now except for the crickets and the wind rustling through the branches. The guests are long gone, and his family is in the house. He can see them through the window, but he can't go there.

He knows he should be with them right now, but he can't.

Too many memories are waiting for him inside the place he once used to call home. And he can't face them now.

* * *

_Did someone break your heart inside?_

_You're in ruins_

Everything looks exactly the way they left it. The same posters on the wall, the same books in the shelves. Nothing has changed.

Just the thick layer of dust tells about the time that has passed. It's been a long time.

For a minute George simply stands there, blinking. It must be the dust.

His gaze falls upon a framed picture of two redheads. They are laughing.

George hasn't cried since the day he had to watch the coffin being lowered into the ground. But now he slumps down, screaming. The tears are hot on his face.

"Damnit, Fred - _why_?"

* * *


	2. The first Month

Here is the second part, hope you like it! If you do like it, please let me know in a review ;)

I love this song so much!!

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**II. The first Month**

* * *

_When you're at the end of the road_

George can't remember if it's ever been so hard to go to work.

Of course it hasn't. What a daft thought.

His eyes scan the shop as if he has never seen it before. Maybe it's even true. He's never seen it like _this_. So empty. So cold.

Through all those years in Hogwarts, George knew for sure that everything would eventually lead him to this place in Diagon Alley. Everything would be worth it in the end.

But now he's reached a dead end, and he is trapped alone in this nightmare that once was a dream for two.

* * *

_And you've lost all sense of control_

Every morning George gets up at 7 o'clock, except for Sundays. He takes a shower and has breakfast and opens the shop at 8. He has lunch break at midday and closes the door at half past 6 every evening.

It's a good routine. George is sure that some control is all it takes. He doesn't have to cry if he doesn't want to. He doesn't have to give in to that feeling of being a moth in a hurricane.

Only sometimes, at night, he wonders how long he will be able to keep up the pretense that everything's alright.

* * *

_And your thoughts have taken their toll  
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul  
_

The fact that the kitchen table at The Burrow is quieter now can be denied. George is sure that it's not true. It can't be quiet with so many people going in and out, so no need to cry.

The pity in the customers' eyes isn't for him alone. It's for Ron, too, so that's okay.

He is quite confident that someday the sadness will fade, and that the emptiness within - well, he'll get used to it.

George can fight all evidence of emotions.

But he can't fight the voice inside his head that asks why he wasn't there.

* * *

_Your faith walks on broken glass_

George feels his mother's arms around him, and although he can't see her face, he knows that tears are running down her face. She won't let him see them, though. She'll wipe them away before looking at him.

He knows she wants to tell him that someday everything will be alright. Maybe she needs to tell herself, too.

But for the first time in his life, George finds it impossible to believe in her words. All his senses tell him that it won't get easier, not tomorrow, not anytime soon.

Just one person could make things right, and he won't.

* * *

_And the hangover doesn't pass_

The taste in the back of his mouth is disgusting. It's a blend of too many people talking to him, way too loud music, and most of all too much firewhiskey. His head is pounding and he keeps his eyes shut tight.

For a moment George thinks it's not even that bad. The pain is comforting, in a weird way. It reminds him that there's still a kind of pain that will eventually ease.

Suddenly he feels a hand on his chest, and he flinches. Slowly he opens his eyes and looks left.

For Godric's sake, what have I done?

* * *

_Nothing's ever built to last  
You're in ruins_

He hears her foorsteps on the stairs, then the door is slammed shut.

For some reason, he is still standing in his bedroom with bare feet and the notion that it wasn't his best idea to say "Let's forget about that, okay?". Tactless git he is.

He doesn't remember much of the last night. Does it matter? George isn't so sure. Maybe he shouldn't have let her go. But that's how it is, isn't it?, he thinks. In the end, you will lose everything that matters, because nothing stays forever. Only the pain remains - and the search for answers.

* * *


	3. The first Year

Okay, so this is the 3rd part of the litte trilogy. It took me a while, I'm not completely satisfied (then again, I hardly ever am LOL) and by now it's 1am so I can just hope that there aren't any typos in the text! You find any, you may keep them ;)

I've been thinking about writing a new story, but right now I'm busy as hell thanks to uni, so at the moment it's just an idea in my head and I don't know when I'll even get started writing it down.

I hope you like this last part! Reviews make my day!

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**III. The first year**

_  
Did you try to live on your own_

George wonders if he'll ever get used to it. For all his life, he's never lived alone. Not in The Burrow, definitely not in Hogwarts, not even at Aunt Muriel's.

He just wishes it wasn't so damn hard to do this. To get up every morning to a quiet, empty house.

It's not the silence that scares him, nor the empty space in front of him at the kitchen table.

Above all else, it's the burning sensation in his chest that he gets everytime he turns around in expectation to see a person who isn't there, and never will be.

* * *

_When you burned down the house and home?_

Snowflakes are falling from the sky as George opens the front door of the shop. So that was Christmas. The best day of the year – now nothing but a nightmare of vivid memories and rigid faces.

There was a time when he loved to go home and see his family. But that's changed. He still loves everyone of them - but it doesn't feel like home anymore.

He hates himself for thinking this. It's still his home. His family with just one missing piece. The tiny piece that made the whole picture, the small fragment that always mattered the most.

* * *

_Did you stand too close to the fire?  
Like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone  
_

George has lost count on how often he's found himself staring at this grey stone and the engraved words. Does it matter? Nobody asks him, and he doesn't talk about it.

Most of the times George doesn't speak, but simply lets the thoughts run through his head. He doesn't know what to say. Fred is the only one he could never lie to, the only one who knows that George is far from being okay. And George wishes he wouldn't feel so guilty for not being alright. After all, if their roles were reversed, he wouldn't blame Fred for anything.

* * *

_When it's time to live and let die_

It was Ginny who eventually raised the subject. George thinks his siblings must have chosen her because she is... well, she's just Ginny.

And now he is standing here, and Ginny has left because he has told her that he can – has to – do it on his own.

He stares at the wooden bed, and he has gotten so used to it being there that it's only now that he really sees it for the first time. He almost expects Fred to emerge from somewhere under the blanket, with messy hair and tired eyes. Letting go takes its time.

"Evanesco."

* * *

_And you can't get another try_

What if you could change the past? What would you do differently?

George hates those questions. They sneak up on him when he doesn't expect them, they lurk behind the wardrobe and crawl into his dreams.

And he can't find the answers.

No matter what he does, there is no way to make the past undone. It takes his breath to think that it was a million little things that led to this one hole in his heart. A million decisions, and every single one could have turned this nightmare into something beautiful.

But they didn't, and it still hurts.

* * *

_Something inside this heart has died  
_

It's a sunny day in London when George wakes up from another restless night. For a moment he just stares at the ceiling, breathing in, breathing out.

It is the day, that _one_ day, which he has tried to wish away during the last weeks. It is useless, of course. He has to face it, make it through this, and he will. He has to.

He gets up and sets his feet onto the cold floor. Slowly he goes to the bathroom, takes another deep breath, then looks at the young man in the mirror. A stranger without a smile.

* * *

_You're in ruins._

He is a man of 21 years now, but somehow he feels much older than that. There was a time when he thought that in his twenties, his life would be perfect. No school to worry about, a job that he loved, a caring family. And Fred.

And today he finds that the years of school worries and family fights were actually the best days of his life. Right now he can't see a way to get back to that happiness.

Not when a part of his soul has been lost forever in the corridors of Hogwarts.

It still hurts.


End file.
